


Lazy Sunday - Ollie's Perspective

by sobefarrington



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobefarrington/pseuds/sobefarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Malcolm Tucker is left in charge of his boyfriend's two nieces and nephew? Well, it's not what you'd expect....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Sunday - Ollie's Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elusive_aspects](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusive_aspects/gifts).



“I’ve got my sister’s kids over. I can’t really leave them Glen.”

Ollie stood blocking the doorway to the kitchen, his tall frame taking up most of the space as one of the girls rushed past him, knocking Ollie off balance a moment. Ollie looked to Malcolm, who sat silently with his face in the Sunday Post.

“No there isn’t really anyone I can leave them with.”

Malcolm rustled his paper, turning the page with the kind of force that let Ollie know he was not going to left in charge of three kids for the afternoon.

But Glen sounded desperate in a way Ollie hadn’t heard from him before. He felt for Glen. He knew he didn’t have anyone else to call.

“Let me see if I can’t get a neighbor to watch them for an hour. I’ll call you back. Yep. Yeah, five minutes.”

Ollie ended the call, putting his cell back in his pocket. He turned to Malcolm who was furiously hiding behind his paper. He was determined not to be talking into anything.

The children continued playing their game of running between the living room and dining room via the kitchen, unaware that a conversation was starting between the adults.

“Babe.”

Ollie voice rang out in bells, trying to work its way into the place where Malcolm couldn’t refuse him. 

“Do not come at me with that tone of voice Olls. You are not dumping these kids on me while you run out to rescue that flaming fartbag Glen.”

“UNCLE MALCOLM SAID A BAD THING.” 

“Luke, what have I told you. He doesn’t like it when you call him Uncle.”

Luke ran off to chase his sisters, no doubt forgetting what his Uncle Ollie had just told him.

“He needs help.”

“You could say that a-fucking-gain.”

“UNCLE MALCOLM SAID A BAD WORD.” Jessica yelled as she darted between the two grown men.

“Jessica!” Ollie called out to her.

“Ollie. It’s not happening.”

Ollie sighed internally, moving towards Malcolm and kneeling at his feet. Malcolm went back to his paper, creating the physical barrier between them again. Ollie put his hands on Malcolm’s knees. He ran a hand up his thigh, reaching for the older man’s wrist and pulling the paper down to his lap. 

Malcolm was ready to give his other half a cold dead stare, but Ollie’s eyes were full of longing and passion. It was the kind of look that Malcolm couldn’t say no to. No matter how badly he wanted to. He just couldn’t do it. He kept silent.

“Babe please. Do this for me. I’ll owe you.”

Malcolm’s resilience wore quickly. He gritted his teeth and bore a cold stare into Ollie’s soul.

“One hour. Olls I swear if you’re any longer.”

“They’ll be angels for you I promise.”  
“One. Hour.”

Ollie spoke to the children, giving special care to instruction. He was clear when he told them to behave, to play calmly and – most importantly – to not bother Malcolm for anything.

“Just play nice.” Ollie told the children. “I’ll only be gone an hour.”

He thought about those instructions the entire drive. He worried terribly that they would pester and poke Malcolm until he broke. The worry built in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it, but it proved impossible. He turned up the radio.

Ollie’s nieces were eight and six. His nephew was five. Unlike his childhood, the siblings got along more often than not. Luke was content to play Princess and Dragon with Sarah and Jessica. He didn’t grumble too much when it was his turn to be the princess. But they were loud. All the time. And Ollie knew how Malcolm valued is quiet time. He’d wanted to spend their lazy Sunday reading the paper, making dinner and watching something on the telly. Ollie had wanted that too.

His sister had called just before lunch. Some newspaper had called her for an interview. She begged her little brother, who had looked to Malcolm much as he had during Glen’s phone call. Disappointed, Malcolm agreed. He didn’t mind Ollie’s nieces and nephew, so long as Ollie was around to handle them. 

This would be the first time Malcolm was left in charge. Alone. With three rambunctious children. Ollie felt his heart beat faster.

He drove over the speed limit to save Malcolm some frustration. He saw Glen’s rusty bucket pulled off to the side of the road half a mile ahead. Ollie slowed down and pulled up behind him.

A tire blew on his once white Citroen Visa and Glen lacked the tools-and the capability-to change the wheel.

“Oh I’m so happy to see you.” Glen hollered over the noise of the cars rushing past. “Thank you for doing this Ollie.”

“You owe me big time.”

“Was it much trouble getting a neighbor to watch the kids?” 

Ollie winced. He was trying to forget about it. The pain he felt was physical. He’d promised an hour and he’d already spent half of that getting to Glen.

“A little, yeah.”

Glen was gutted. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s only Sunday off, especially when he managed to get some family time with the kids he cared for so much. He was getting ready to apologize when Ollie cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this clunker up and running. I got the jack and some tools in the car. You got the spare?”

___________________________________________

It took another half hour and three phone calls to get a tow truck to the scene. Finding a company operating on Sundays and willing to drive the car out of the city was harder than Ollie had imagined. But then again, he hadn’t imagined it at all.

Another twenty minutes of cables and winches and tightening and pulling they were finally making progress. Ollie and Glen stood back while the driver pushed buttons on the side of his truck. 

“I’m sorry Ollie. I honestly thought it came with a spare.”

Ollie remained tight lipped. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He truly believed Glen to be a bumbling idiot. Occasions such as these made him wonder how he made it through life thus far.

The driver gave Glen some information on where his car would be, a number on a card with the name of the mechanics on the reverse. Glen seemed satisfied with the entire transaction and they watched as the tow truck pulled away, heading towards the garage six blocks from Glen’s house.

Ollie drove Glen back to his house in near silence. He worried terribly that Malcolm was going to be furious with him. He worried doubly that his phone hadn’t rung once in the – he checked his watch - two hours he’d been gone.

Ollie dropped Glen off, agreeing to pick him up in the morning before leaving for his fifty minute drive home.

He glanced at his phone during every stop sign and red light he encountered. No missed calls. No texts. No emails.

He was sure he was in deeper than he could climb out of.

He ran through a list of things to do when he finally arrived back home. He would apologize. Call Glen a baboon. Return the kids. Pick up Chinese on his way home. Apologize. Apologize. Apologize.

He was trying to find the best place to insert ‘blowjob as apology’ into his list when he noticed he’d turned onto his street.

Ollie steadied his breathing as he pulled into the driveway. He reassured himself with the fact that there were no police cars or ambulances in sight. Chances were they were all alright.

The house seemed as it always had from the outside. No signs of blood on the cement steps. No neighbors outside staring at him as he returned. All signs pointed to life. Ollie was pleasantly surprised.

He opened the door and entered the front hall, taking off his shoes and jacket. He placed the keys on the ledge and took the few steps to the living room, walking in a scene in progress.

Malcolm had his back to the doorway, wearing what looked like a sheet from the linen closet around his neck like a cape. He was holding a pot from the kitchen over his head. Luke and Jessica stood facing Ollie, though they hadn’t seen him yet. Ollie could just make out Jessica on the floor in front of Malcolm, mostly blocked by the old man’s frame. She was sitting, somewhat slumped forward with her head down when Malcolm started to lower the pot in his hands.

“NO!! MALCOLM, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DO—“

Ollie raced forward, latching onto his bicep and pulling him backward, away from the children. Ollie was sure he had snapped and was preparing to beat them to death, each one in turn, with a bit of cookery he’d dug out from the cupboard.  
“—ing.”

“UNCLE OLLIE SAID A BAD WORD.” All three kids shouted in unison.

It was then that his attention shifted to the three kids before him. All three were also wearing sheets from the linen closet, either as a dress or a cape. Luke and Sarah had pots on their heads, as though they were wearing them as hats. Luke had a plastic sword tucked into a belt that looked much like one Ollie had bought six months ago.

Malcolm turned to Ollie.

“On great job there Uncle Ollie, storming in here and ruining everything. How is Princess Jessica ever supposed to rule her kingdom now that you’ve destroyed the crowning ceremony.”

Malcolm turned back to the children, assuming a persona Ollie didn’t know the man was capable of.

“Oh Royal Highness, my sincerest apologies. It seems an absurdly rude and gangly ogre has invaded the castle. How would Your Highness like us to dispose of him?”

Jessica stroked her chin as she thought of a solution to their problem. Sarah cleared her throat, as if asking permission to speak.  
“Perhaps your sister, The Duchess of Cornbread, has an idea.” Malcolm offered.

“Thank you Brave Knight Leopold. Duchess, please share your ideas.”

“Maybe, it would be wise to put the ogre to work, cooking a meal for the royal family.”

“I second that motion.” Malcolm agreed. “Oh Princess Jessica, what does thou sayeth.”

“Earl of Pasta?”

Everyone’s attention shifted to Luke, who pulled his plastic sword from its belt sheath and knocked it against his pot helmet twice before screaming louder than was necessary.

“PASTA!!”

“Eye.” “Eye.” “Eye.”

Three affirmative calls to a proclamation of pasta. The royals had decided. 

“Well, if this ogre is going to cook anything, he’s going to need the cookery back.”

There was a collective look of disappointment in the four faces who wanted to continue with their game, but they seemed to get over it quickly. Luke was the first to remove his hat and hand it to Ollie. Sarah did the same. Malcolm looked the most hurt, handing his over after some insistence from Ollie.

The kids finished cleaning the living room, putting away the sheets and other objects they’d grouped for their adventure. Malcolm was caught by Ollie returning some wooden spoons to the kitchen.

“Hey, wait.” Ollie called with a smile, reaching out for Malcolm’s arm as he had turned away.

Ollie pulled the older man closer, into a private moment while the children nestled in the other room.

“What happened today?”

“What do you mean? Glen got a flat, the fucking imbecile.”

“What happened here today.”

Luke ran in unannounced and wrapped himself around Malcolm’s leg, squeezing the man with all the power he had in his tiny body.

“That was the best Uncle Malcolm.”

Ollie watched Malcolm’s face as he broke out into a smile. A genuine, broad faced smile. He patted Luke on the head, giving him a gentle half hug in return.

“It sure was Luke. Now go run off and bug your sisters while I talk to Uncle Ollie.”

Luke obliged, not even trying to argue to stay in the room. Ollie had always had trouble getting Luke to mind his own business.

“What was THAT? “

Malcolm shrugged.

“I like it when they call me Uncle Malcolm.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to attempt to write Malcolm's POV for this if it's popular enough.


End file.
